


unforgiven

by Anonymous



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Venom (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Silent Hill Fusion, Angst, Body Horror, Ghosts, Haunting, Horror, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Psychological Horror, Supernatural Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 19:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16352396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Is this vengeance?" Eddie is on his knees, lungs burning and red dripping out of his mouth."No." He tilts his head childishly, lips curved into a near angelic smile. He is a beautiful thing: pale skin and scarlet lips, with eyes that burn like molten gold and gentle hands. "This is retribution."





	unforgiven

The first thing Eddie becomes aware of is pain.

He feels a strange throbbing around his neck, sharp, the outline of hands around his throat. He groans, then coughs when it feels like glass tries to pass through his esophagus. There is a stabbing ache at the back of his head, and he feels the Symbiotes own hurt echoing throughout their shared bond. He tries turning on his side, but finds he can’t move. He hears the linger whisper of half-familiar laughter, a monstrous smile hiding behind a pretty mouth. He sees gold eyes peering through thick lashes, suddenly unfamiliar with just the hint of cruelty hiding behind the luminous sheen, and a shudder runs down Eddie’s spine.

_ ‘What happened?’  _ Eddie asks Venom, a little relieved he can move his eyes as he finally adjusts through the darkness surrounding him. He can make the outlines of a bed, fuzzy figures standing on shelves and the smell of something overly sweet thick in the air.  _ ‘I don’t remember anything at all.’ _

**_‘The Spider,’_ ** Venom spits, as if it explains everything. ‘ **_This is all his fault.’_ **

Eddie knows that without a doubt. Still, that doesn’t explain why they are both bound and trapped in a strange place with little to no memories of the night before. Or the day before, even.

He hears the door open, and a figure enters the room. Eddie tries to focus, but  whenever he tries to gaze at the stranger, his head goes light and he couldn't keep his gaze. There are words, each syllable gliding over every letter in a smooth cadence, amused and patronizing, but Eddie can’t make them out. Whenever he tries to understand, confusion stabbed at his head with searing pain burning a path down to his spine. The bed dips by Eddie’s side, and he is helpless to whoever has him captive.

He feels a hand brush his hair away from his forehead, and cool relief washes all over his being. Then it’s gone as quickly as it comes.

The door closes with a silent creek, and light finally floods the room.

Every corner is gathering cobwebs, books and literature in languages Eddie can’t understand and murky jars filled the cabinets around the room, interspersed with candles of different types that served as his only illumination. The walls are painted a deep red, made it look like the entire room was bathed in blood, and the only window to the outside world was pitch black and offered nothing that told Eddie where he is.

That is then Eddie realizes that he can finally move.

He sits up, head spinning, limbs heavy with lead and mouth stuffed with cotton. Venom is a quiet presence at the back of his head, tense with his hackles raised, ready to surround Eddie at the slightest sign of danger. The sheets above his knees are silken and expensive, but it smells of  dust and spiders crawl out when Eddie pushes it away. Goosebumps crawl across Eddie’s skin, thoughts of tiny legs skittering across his exposed skin and under his clothes fill his mind, and he pushes it away.

He needs to get out of here.

The floorboards are cold and there’s a thin layer of dust coating the surface. Eddie stumbles, to the door, almost slips once or twice, but somehow manages to regain his balance when he finally reaches his destination. The knob is cold under his hand, made of brass with subtle engravings laid on the metal. The knob twists before the door squeaks open. Shadows bathe the hallway and cast strange shapes across the walls. The wallpapers are rotten and torn, brass candle holders hang every few feet away, and faded paintings decorate the walls. Eddie steps out tentatively, trying to squint through the darkness.

The door behind him slams close.

_ ‘I don’t like this.’ _ Venom is a comforting presence as he sends waves of assurance that leaves warmth lingering down to Eddie’s toes. It feels like eyes are watching Eddie from every corner, as if he isn’t totally alone.

_ “Sweetie..."  _ Both host and symbiote freezes at the voice. It sounds so gentle and loving, reminds Eddie of Aunt May. Despite his newfound hatred for Peter Parker, he could never bring himself to hurt her. As for hurting Gwen Stacy and all the other Midtown students that Peter hangs out with... Venom was careful enough not to cause any of them permanent damage.  _ “Where did you go?” _

At the end of the hall, the lights flicker restlessly. Footsteps approach.

Eddie holds his ground. Waits. Every footfall grows loud. Like tiny feet on wood. Yet, no outline of a person from the other end of the hall comes closer. They are hurried and quick. As if a child is running towards Eddie. But there is no one there. They become clear and sharp, a quick rhythm. Like tiny heartbeats. A cold gust bushes past Eddie’s feet. Tiny hands push him out of the way.

Then the footsteps continued. Right behind Eddie.

He tries to move, glance behind him, but something holds Eddie in place. The hairs on his back stand on end, and Eddie’s rational mind and Venom’s senses told the two of them there is no one there. But his lizard brain kept on screaming. There’s something behind them. There’s someone bigger and more terrifying than the creature inhabiting beneath Eddie’s skin that’s waiting for them.

Tiny feet on wooden floorboards disappear completely in the air, traces of laughter like silver bells follow, and Eddie can finally move. He turns on his heel, sweat drips down his forehead.

He is all alone.


End file.
